Your Name My Son
by ashlyns
Summary: Years after the war with Voldemort, Ron tells his baby son the story of a fallen hero...


Hey, my name is Ashlyns and I'm a fanfic-aholic! Anyways, I love Harry Potter and I love writing fan fics on it. This one will come in three parts, this is part one. I hope you like it and look for part two later. I don't own HP! Thanx!

YOUR NAME MY SON:

Part One: Baby Tales

Ron threw his house keys on the kitchen counter beside the coffee maker and sighed, closing the door behind him and locking it. Pulling his robes up over his head, he left them lying on the floor beside the table and cleared his tired and strained voice.

"Hermionie!" He called into the darkness of the living room. The lights from the upstairs floated down the staircase and into the dark hall that led from the side of the livingroom and into the backrooms were there was a bathroom and a few offices.

"I'm up here honey!" Hermionie called. Ron smiled and undid his tire, throwing it onto his robes. Hermionie would yell at him later but for now he'd be able to have a quiet night. "I'm in the tub!"

Ron climbed the stairs and took in the smell of bubble bath. "Good, I need hot water." He pushed into the steaming bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, watching Hermionie. All he could see of her was her head, other then that she was completely covered. "Damn," He smiled. "I was hoping all the bubbles would have been used already."

"Not like you're deprived." Hermionie whispered, raising her eyebrows as she turned the page of the book, hovering over the bath water with a soapy hand. "How was you're day?"

Ron came closer into the bathroom, catching sight of his misted reflection in the foggy mirror. His vivid red hair was thinning and he was getting worried about going bald prematurely. He was only twenty-eight! He shouldn't be going bald yet. Hermionie seemed to notice. Not taking her eyes off her book, she said, "What's wrong?"

"Nothing, I just...well...do you think my hair is thinning?" Hermionie laughed lightly. "What?" Ron came closer and sat on the edge of the tub, not worrying about his pants getting wet.

"Nothing. I don't think it's growing thin. I think it's just going gray." Ron snorted and played with her hair.

"Yours to." He said. Hermionie reached up with a soapy hand and slapped his away. Ron jumped up as bubble bath hit his face.

"You only have yourself to blame." Hermionie said, turning another page of her book. "I love gray hair though. It's sexy."

"Yeah, alright. It's my job." He jumped up onto the bathroom counter, watching his wife. They had been married three years after they had both gotten far enough ahead in their careers. Hermionie had continued with her house elf rights junk and been able to bring it to the attention of much of the wizarding community. Ron had gotten into the ministry fresh out of Hogwarts and now worked as an Auror, rounding up the last of those damn Dementors and Death Eaters.

"I don't like you being an Auror. You know, Ron, I think if there was ever a time to quit it was now. You're under so much stress and..."

"Hermionie!" Ron whispered. "If there was ever a time to be an Auror it would be now! There is hardly any dark in the world at the moment and...it pays well Hermionie. It pays really well." He picked up a rubber duck and squeezed it. "Have you heard from your mom lately?"

Hermionie opened her mouth to speak but suddenly the sound of a baby crying hit them from the bedroom next door. Hermionie leaned back against the blue tub surround and sighed. "Does he ever go to sleep?" Ron smiled and jumped down from the counter.

"No, he seemed to cry more when we're trying to be together." Ron commented. "My mom said it'll be that way until he's eighteen and on his own." Hermionie muttered something and sank beneath the bubbles, an obvious sign that it was Ron's turn with their son. Chucking the rubber duck into the sink, Ron walked out into the hall and opened the nursery's door.

It was dark inside, the only lights were the streetlights coming in through the window and falling across the floor beside the crib. Ron stepped across a few stuffed animals and a fake wand from the twins and leaned on the crib railing.

"Did your mobile cut out?" Ron asked, playing with the turning knob on the side. Music began to play but the baby didn't stop crying. Now he was just positively howling, little fists flailing as his brown hair fell around his small face.

Ron reached down and lifted his small baby into his arms, patting him on the back. He was so small and perfect...he could see so much of Hermionie in him.

"I hope you go back to sleep before your mom gets out of the bath mister." Ron whispered, walking over to the window and looking down into the deserted street. In other houses, lights were on and he could even see the Stadnyk's through their living room window watching the late news. "I have work, she has a meeting and you're staying at auntie Ginny's for an hour or so."

The baby didn't stop crying but his gasping sobs seemed to have slowed down a bit. Ron knew it wasn't out of sympathy for his parent's buisy lives but from his dad's voice. Ron settled into a rocking chair and pushed back and forth making shushing noises.

"You know what kid, you have a set of lungs on you." Ron smiled. "If you want me to tell you a story, just cry a little more." The baby obliged and Ron took that as his needed yes. "Okay. Have you ever heard the story of He Who Must Not Be Named?"

"No? Okay. Well, a long time ago on a very far place," Ron was lying about the far place but he didn't want his son to get scared. "There was a very bad wizard named Tom Riddle. Now, Tom was not a very happy baby...he cried a lot. Kinda like you," The baby was beginning to settle down, his eyes closing. "And Tom did some very mean things. He became You-Know-Who and He-Who-Must-Not-Be-Named because of all those terrible things. Many people like Grandpa Dumbledore worked to stop him but they couldn't." The baby's eyes had stopped tearing and his mouth had stopped working. Now he lay still in Ron's arms, listening to the tale unfold.

"When all looked as though it was to fall into complete and utter darkness, a prince was born. His name was Harry and he lived in same realm as the evil lord." Unnoticed by Ron, Hermionie came to the bedroom door and leaned against the frame, her bathrobe pulled closer around her, listening. "Now this prince he grew up with evil people because the king and the queen had died. The dark lord killed them."

Ron smiled and ran a hand through his son's hair, taking out the knots that his side of the family had given him. "Poor little prince grew up with these nasty, evil, mean people until a giant came and took him. The giant brought him to a safe realm where he could grow up and have friends. His best friends were Ron and Hermionie and they helped him on many really dangerous adventures." Ron leaned down and kissed his son's cheek. The baby smiled and cooed.

"Of course, they all did it as safely as possible and had helmets and armor on!" Ron laughed lightly. "Well, one day prince Harry had to meet his destiny." Now Ron's throat began to tighten. "For the safety of all the world, they had to fight each other. Prince Harry, he stood alone on the battlefield and raised his wand in the air as the evil dark lord stood watching. They fought for hours and hours! They didn't seem to get anywhere and no matter how hard Harry's friends tried to help, they couldn't do anything." The baby's eyes widened. "Yeah, I know."

"You know what happened?" Ron asked. His son simply stared at him so he continued. "The price beat the evil lord and all the world was saved. That's why you're here now. The world was saved. So, when you get older, you can be a little hell raiser to. Just, try not to be like your uncles...kay?"

Hermionie sighed and left the doorway quietly, going to the room. She sat down in front of the vanity mirror and began to brush her hair, her mind blank until Ron came back in. "He's asleep?" She asked. Ron smiled sadly and nodded, sitting down on the bed and stripping off his socks. "You lied."

"I know." Ron sighed. "He'll read it in the history books soon enough, I'd rather I spare him the truth for now. Let him be a baby." Ron laid back down on the covers and watched her as she pulled the tangles from her hair. "Where did it all go so wrong?"

"I don't know." Hermionie sighed, dropping the brush and getting up, moving to the other side of the bedroom to grab some pajamas. "It just did. There was nothing we could do."

"I just always feel like we could have done more. You know?" He asked, getting up and pulling the comforters down the bed as his wife got dressed for the night. "I hated standing there and watching it all happen, powerless to stop it. Harry died on the battlefield."

Ron got into bed and a few minutes later was joined by his wife. "I liked your ending to the story better. You make it sound so happy. I mean, it was the Voldemort was killed." Ron flinched slightly at the name but didn't do anything else. "We did all we could Ron. It's time to let go. I have." Hermionie turned off the light and then cuddled into her husband as he wrapped his arms around her. "One day he'll know why he was named Harry just as he'll someday know the story behind it. We can't change the past Ron Let's let him just be a kid for now and tell him about 'the prince' later."

"You heard that?" Ron asked. Hermionie nodded. "It was a pretty good story, wasn't it?"

"Oh yes. You forgot one minor detail." Hermionie whispered. Ron smiled in the dark.

"What?" He asked, bending his head to kiss her hair.

"The princess...me." Ron laughed lightly and closed his eyes.

In the next room, little Harry Weasley rolled over and opened his eyes. The light from the window in the corner was crawling into the room like some scary monster waiting to attack. He didn't know why, his little brain couldn't understand or interpret, but he felt odd with the light. He didn't like it at all.

Stuffing a little fist in his mouth, he opened his mouth to cry but suddenly a comforting hand was on his forehead. There was the familiar face of someone he knew only by sight. Through slightly blurred vision, the baby smiled and the need to cry vanished as he reached out for the person's glasses in the dark.

"Hey." The boy whispered, staring at the mobile. It was really quite annoying. He shut it off and sighed. "Come on Harry. Get some shuteye. You have to get a little bit of sleep before you wake you're parents around..." He checked his watch, "Three thirty sound good to you?"

With the comforting hand on his forehead, little Harry turned his head and fell asleep.


End file.
